As I walked and waited, prayed and pondered, I heard a quiet reassurance, “All shall be well.” And that one simple, but not ‘pat’ sentence, allowed me to breathe.

Beauty and brokenness are a package deal. If I live only in beauty, I live in denial. If I live only in brokenness, I live in despair. Beauty in the midst of brokenness is the cup of cold water, the hint of hope that there is more to come.

I never thought I was a worrier. Then I had kids.

“What do you most want to hear from God?” I’ve asked that question to many people. The overwhelming answer is . . .

Because if we opened ourselves to joy, well, there could be . . . dancing. And then how would we ever get back to the real grind of work?

I’ve lived the life of an over-eager onion peeler for many years.

2. Life is bitter/sweet.

'Tis the season to get those “our-kids-are-taking-a-break-from-Harvard-to-serve-in-the-Peace-Corps” Christmas letters.

Hospitality is the most unseen but foundational of the arts . . .

I’ll take sticks and stones to break my bones any day because it’s words that hurt me. Sadly, it’s not someone else shouting them at me. It’s my own inner voice whispering them in my ear.

Do you know how to totally paralyze a book lover? Tag her in a Facebook message challenging her to list her top ten books.

All I could hear was Miracle Max’s voice from Princess Bride. Was the vine “mostly dead or all dead?”